INFxCTED
by Bloodrope
Summary: Fight to survive. Live to not be infected and kill to make it all end. It's a do or die world now and can Solara be one of the few to survive the days where the dead walk to feast upon the world? Will fighting just be enough or will it all consume her?
1. Before the world went to shit

"For the great day of their wrath has come, and who is able to stand?"

-Revolution 6:17-

**Pre Apocalypse:**

White hadn't always been her color; it made her already pale skin almost look sickly, deathly to the point that many of the employee's had tried to complain to the "warden" of the ward about at least changing it to not match the sterile color that also mimicked the walls and tiles that were almost a linear reflection. However their complaints, suggestions and even silent commentaries were silenced, rejected upon leaving from their thoughts and passing from their lips. It stated clearly, the "warden" would reply almost with an automatic response, that those who were granted acceptance into the ward were sick patients that had given up their rights for their health, mentality and even realization to obediently return to them through harsh and interesting processes.

All those that had entered into the posh room would always leave with a sense of hopelessness, but their duty to help these people who either had themselves checked in or were forced for their wellbeing's needed their routine of medications, lessons, watches and the occasional eye that would check for signs of their "disease".

A tall muscular male around his mid-30's with slightly ruffled hair carried a steel tray with white paper cups each holding the designated doses that were medically prescribed by each patients therapist. This said male had smoldering cloudy orbs that always shocked one particular patient, though his smile was intoxicating she adored her talks about the real world with him. He made his rounds handing each patient in the rec-room their pills taking their cups of water and swallowing them down before repeating the process until, as usual, he finally made the last stop to her.

On the tray were two cups; one of water the other with three pills. A circular oval, a long blue and if she could recall a small crimson oval which she remembered was a vitamin while the other two were to "help" with her "delusions" and relax her body. With an annoyed glare tinting behind her azure hues, the woman snatched the water cup first feeling the cool liquid fill the entrance of her mouth before holding out her hand. As per protocol, the man handed her the small cup and she doused the pills into her mouth before quickly swallowing, jutting out the pink fleshed tongue from her mouth to show that she actually indeed swallowed what had been prescribed to her. Later though she'd empty her stomach of the pills and flush them.

Nodding as though pleased with what she did, he tucked the tray under his armpit and asked her how she was doing today. The standard break question that always irritated her before she was placed with the crazies even now still did. With a quick glance up towards his chiseled face she jousted him a glare which he chuckled to. Nevertheless, the woman would always answer. The answer never changing from its base though varying depending on her mood.

"Like the days before when you've asked the same thing. I'm doing the best I can while being locked up with the Looney Toons over there." She roughly muffled through slightly gritted chops.

His cheery expressioned face slowly diminished. With knowing eyes he sent her a pitiful glance of sorrow. It was known among the staff that she wasn't delusional, eccentric yes, but compared to those who were suicidal, had to be in solitary confinement and tried to murder the staff she was the epitome of their perfect patient. Bowing his head, he leaned closer to her sitting frame that was tucked underneath and almost swallowed by the blue excuse for a couch.

"Solara," he sighed before shaking his head. He had been planning on asking her just why exactly why she was placed in the facility when one of their lurid patients, Ronald, a man in his 60's started chucking his bag of pretzels and grabbing other patients snacks. His loud roars of the voices telling him to end it all to Solara seemed almost comical. Though she knew that the man was still in the processes of grieving over his lost wife.

"Bet you a pack of smokes in about 30 seconds he's going to go for the lamps and chuck it at someone," Solara cheerfully taunted the male whose darkened clouded pools flickered over to Ronald who had been nearing himself closer to the side desk that indeed held two lamps that could be unplugged from the electrical sockets and used as his personal homing missiles.

The drug-dealer as she liked to mentally call him turned from her dropping the tray beside her took off towards Ronald and alerted the others. Ronald continued his ramblings with the air muttering and shaking his head in displeasure from perhaps whatever his mind had been conjuring conversations with and as another patient, a fairly new one Solara might add, one who she didn't get her name crossed his path towards the writing desk it was then that all hell was beginning to break loose.

Ronald lunged at the woman just as Mr. Drug-dealer reached him and before Ronald could scratch off her beautiful face clean from her skull the others started to encircle the thrashing and fighting old man. His yells for Dorothy, his deceased wife who he would claim was telling him to do these things, never once responded to his calls. His beloved deceased wife never comes running to his aide. How could she? She was a pile of 120 pounds of rotting flesh and decaying bone entrapped in a coffin 12 feet underground while the earth started to swallow her.

Solara felt for Ronald. Her heart always felt as though it was breaking because of his never-dying devotion to his wife; the love that the two perhaps shared was probably a fairytale like the Notebook. To see such a love deteriorate was devastating. Thankfully though it didn't last when a nurse pulled out a syringe from her pocket and shoved it into Ronald's thigh. Moments later his body started to lose the fight it once hand, his once barks for his wife became slurred pleas for her to come see him.

She wondered if Ronald would ever be granted the peace to be with his wife again. For now though, her sense of entertainment that outscored All my children came to a quickened end, ironically like the show itself.

Her eyes leered towards the tray that was beside her feet and deciding to not cause trouble for the hope of getting a pack of smokes, she rested her head on her enclosed fist. His footsteps caused her to lift an eye and his smile was one of shock.

"How do you do that, Solara?" He muttered under his breath, mostly to himself though Solara thought it'd be rude to deny him an answer. One that wasn't "The dead told me" or "It was déjà vu"

"Body language." She stated in complete boredom.

Nodding, he picked up the potential weapon and stated that she'd be getting her smokes in the usual place in her room before taking his leave. The next batch of crazies couldn't be denied their drugs which meant for Solara she'd go to the bathroom and lurch the pills up before she started to feel funny and numb.

Another nurse, one just about the same height as she grazed across the floor towards her direction and Solara wanted to groan aloud, never stopping and walking to the bathroom.

"Solara, you have a visitor." She stated with no emotion. Her name tag printed out the name "Margot" and Solara blinked wondering if it was pronounced Mar-go or Mag-ot.

"I'll be right there, I have to pee," she quickly blabbered out which the nurse nodded leaving her to go puke up her intestines and flushing the toilet. And like a good poster child she washed her hands under the water and took some of the soap diluting it with the water and shuffled it into her mouth pretending that the disgusting disinfectant was Listerine before spitting it out and making it her way towards her only visitor in 2 months.

_Yay, the dragon from the pits of hell is here!_ she mentally prepped herself to meet with the demon that forced her into a cartoon world; a hippies paradise.

Opening the door, she walked into the visitor's room, her eyes squinting due to the over-induced light source of opened blinds. A shadow almost met her feet from the person standing by the windows. The blondes lightly curled hair was elegantly placed in a ponytail that caught the lights rays. Light beige pants which Solara could only assume were designer brought the appearance that her legs were longer than they were by the accompany of black Louboutins. As the woman turned to face her, the matching Aquatic blues flickered upon the gown she was forced to wear.

Wincing with absolute disgust, the woman sat down and offered her the chair across from her with a peachy smile. The days of hugging like long lost family was thrown out the window. Maybe she knew that if she pressed her preppy fake plastic body against hers that she'd have her ass handed to her.

"Sol! My goodness it's so good to see you. It's been months you know! I see that you became a slob while you were on vacation here," she continued to babble as though the entire universe revolved around her. Which apparently in her mind it did.

Anger flushed out from her pores and the tiny demons on her shoulders pestered her to just slap the life from her older sibling. The queen of hell that threw her to the wolves, who placed her in this mental institution and pretended that it was a place for those to get help. A rehab as her sister kept telling herself.

She had to keep her cool though if she wanted to prove to the board and to the others here that she was doing fine so that she could be released soon. A bad feeling kept creeping its way into her subconscious with horrid dreams and this nauseous feeling that she pushed away to deal with herself.

_It's now or never _Solara hushed to herself straining her muscles to form into a smile.

"I know it's been far too long hasn't it sis! You know I can't help what these people put me in. They say it's to keep the Toons from hanging their heads on the pipes in their rooms. Maybe if you make a request they might listen." Solara half-ass kissed her sister trying to keep her temper from hitting the danger mark.

Her twin's face contorted into absolute dismay a dainty hand lifting from its once perfect stance on her thigh up to cover her lips, softly gasping.

"Oh that's horrible! They didn't tell me that you were suicidal!"

Solara wanted to growl and ring her fingers around her sister and slap some common sense into her which was probably what Ailey wanted her to do.

Deciding to change the subject, Solara asked about how their father was doing. Ailey frowned and rolled her eyes. Never would Ailey understand why their father ostracized her from shaming not just him but the family name by authorizing Solara's institution. Her piercing glare caused Ailey to sigh and decide to tell her twin the truth. There wasn't any fun in torturing her anymore.

"He's pissed. At me. Like always, you know how that is. He wants me to come get you and bring you home so I'm doing that. I just have to sign the papers and we can go home."

She knew that her father would be pissed, though that word would probably be an understatement for the fact that their house might be in complete shambles by him throwing and shooting anything in sight that would ease his frustration with his eldest child.

Solara knew that their father had more adoration for Solara than Ailey for the fact that he treated her like the son he and his wife couldn't have. And Solara was glad to be able to spend time with her father.

The anger that had been close to erupting ended its willful fight in a quickened second. For the first time in a couple months, Solara was actually happy. She'd be able to sleep in her bed, eat real food not anything processed and cheap and be able to go hunting before the season made it inapplicable for her and her father to do so.

No words of thanks ever dared pass her lips though. She'd never be able to forgive her sibling and she just nodded taking it upon herself to leave the room to gather her hopefully smokes and books that she was allowed to have.

It never passed her thoughts though when the screaming and chaos erupted the room and hallways. It would never cross her mind that the doors of hell had unleashed something terrible upon humanity. Red lights flashed above and everything seemed to go on lockdown. Grabbing her bags she ran through the halls, changing into a pair of denim and a black tank with a pair of trainers she tried to make it through the front doors.

In the glass she could see her sister's frightened face, looking back at her and the door as though contemplating. Solara screamed banging the doors, begging for them to open and for her sister to not leave her. Her words though never made it to her when her sister ran to the door placed her hand on the glass, their two hands perfectly forming against the barrier before she kissed the glass mouthing she loved her and took off.

Authors Note: Okay well this is just a Pre-Chapter you can say which shows some history about our characters that'll be in the series that I'm typing up for you all.

†

Curious though if you think it's going to be to your liking. It's in the Walking Dead fandom and if I get good reviews I'll be keeping it as realistic as I possibly can. So I hope you guys like it, give me some feedback on if you like it, hate it, think something was missing. Oh and I'll probably need a Beta so if any of you wonderful people are interested hit me up.

†

And I'll post on my page a playlist for the fic that you guys should listen to. ^-^

Note: This will be a Daryl/OC and Shane/OC but it'll be later. This will be told from Solara's eyes (3rd person though)

Love always,

Bloodrope


	2. Surviving

**Title: INFxCTED**

**Author: Bloodrope**

**Rating: T**

**Fandom: The Walking Dead**

**Disclaimer: **So I won't be sued by the people of not just AMC, their producers and the wonderful Mr. Kirkman who I have not read your comics but soon shall, I shall tell you all that I do not own anything related to what you see on the show or the comics. But I do own Solara, her badassness, Ailey and her OCD freakazoid ness and the copy of season 1 of the Walking Dead!

"_Into Captivity you go; if you kill with the sword with the sword you must be killed."_

-Revelation 13:9-

Never had she been helpless. Never was she forced to be in a cage when she was given freedom and she'd be damned to the pits of hell if she was going to willingly stay like some loon. The growling continued shuffling closer to her and she felt hands wrap themselves around the back of her arms before she turned around a slight shock flickering behind azure orbs. In front of her was Ronald. Or what she thought appeared to be Ronald. The moaning and the chops of his teeth started grinding in absolute anticipation. Her brain stopped as though in shock but she knew. The feeling she been having, the reoccurring dreams of a throw down wasn't just a figment of her subconscious. It was a warning.

"Fight to live, live to survive" she muttered under her breath while allowing the reflexes she had spent 19 years in training take over. The lids of her eyes closed, the dark lashes smoothly curling up tickling the air and before Ronald could take a chunk out of her, she pushed her body against the elderly man's, throwing the weight she could muster into the impact and released her arms.

Returning her eyes to him, she could see the pigment of his skin flush into what looked like what belonged to the swamp. The light greens that tinted the dead skin and the flesh that was starting to peel from once smooth and wrinkly sculptures of Ronald's face.

"Ronald?"

The groaning continued and what was the shell of Ronald's body shuffled its way towards her.

"Ronald are you alright?" Solara asked with annoyance lacing her worlds. It seemed that the growling/groaning old man didn't feel like talking to her and well she made her peace with the powers that be that what she'd do to escape from this cell wouldn't be her fault.

Against better judgment, she put off the old man not thinking what a dangerous and life altering move that could be.

Chaos had erupted the ward. Patients in their white and blue gowns were running away, some clung to the chairs and others sat in a fetal position against the wall rolling on their bottoms.

The staff for the institution weren't anywhere to be seen, though bodies continued to take up space through the hallways and against the electronically locked double doors that would've left to salvation.

Panic was becoming ever so popular that Solara wouldn't have noticed that the old fart was inches from having his perfectly cooked meal just for the picking if it wasn't for her ever favorite Drug-Dealing Male Nurse.

"The fuck! Oi Ronald, bite me and I'll send you to your wife before you say I'm the Wicked Witch, Capish?" She howled with absolute fury. It had been a while since she could truly be angry and it seemed that it all was going to be one of those days when you don't know that the worlds going to shit and decide to have a midlife crisis.

Strong sturdy arms grabbed Solara's biceps and shook her gently before tugging her away from the living dead Ronald. She couldn't tell what the hell was going on with the old man but whatever it was she didn't want to be a part of it.

She snapped her head to the fingers that were lugging her through the maze that was the facility building and locked her eyes on the quickly passing items that were hung on the walls; their colors reminding her of when you are sitting in the passenger seat of a car and look down at the stripes that marked the lanes on the roads, edges of red and blues would quickly replace yellows and oranges. The pallets of the rainbow continued to floor her vision and she wondered where she was, muttering "Feel the rainbow, taste the rainbow" in a mocking tone. She knew that it wasn't appropriate and that her dry dark and cynical humor wasn't for everyone and couldn't find it in her to apologize to her Drug-dealer whose name she never could remember, nor could she ask.

Nothing looked familiar when he stopped dragging her down the florescent hallway, ending at a closed door. She never was part of this side of the ward and wondered what exactly were behind the doors.

The shuffling and clinking of keys alerted her attention and the audible flick of the lock being unlatched in its comfortable crevice before curling itself back into the doors embracement.

"What's going on?" Solara demanded though her voice didn't hold the strong power it usually sounded and the attitude that usually accompanied it.

His back was to her but she saw his body tense underneath the scrubs and half-turned to face her.

"Ever heard of Armageddon sweets?"

It was quite obvious that she had. The scoffing that she permitted to run out from enclosed lips was sure sign that she knew. Who the hell wouldn't though? Hollywood made a science fiction of the sort and she knew that the Mayans believed that the world was coming to an uncouthly end, though by what it seemed to be the million dollar question.

He took her scoff with a brief curt nod, opening the door which allowed the natural light of the outside world to break through the cracks as the door moved.

"Seems that it didn't want to wait."

Solara waited for him to say something more, to elaborate his statement which left her with more questions than she could probably ask with her mind running on overdrive. Her features twisted in confusion and out of perpetual habit she ran her fingers through her hair.

In the end she stood there still behind him shaking her head, the moans now were becoming more frequent and the screams with panic becoming faint.

"No! No that's not possible!-" Solara started trying to put a scientific explanation for what was going on.

"You probably haven't watched since you've been locked here but for weeks some virus as the reporters like to call it has been infecting everyone. Now do you want to live or do you want to curl in a ball and die off?" He angrily hissed, his light orbs demanded an answer.

She couldn't understand it thought. This was the real world. She watched the news. She heard reports of a virus breaking out but never really paid attention to it.

Now when her life wasn't the only one in line she pushed back her thoughts, putting on a façade and nodding, grabbing the door before she could see some of the disfigured people turn the corner and be on their tail.

The outside world was almost like a war zone. Clouds filled the air with a gloomy effect and abandoned cars were left on the street, their doors opened for all the world. People, living people scrambled across the streets trying to outrun these beasts that had the never-ending thirst for their meaty flesh.

Watching it all made her realize that in just two months anything and everything can change. With all this chaos though she wondered where her sibling was. Was she alright? Was she on the highway going home to warn her mother or calling their father who was flying home from San Diego? Her mind swarmed with endless counts of questions about everything.

But she never really did stop her footing as she continued to follow the man out from the private establishment that had been her personal hell from 62 days. The two made their way to an blue old Honda civic.

Normally she'd have nothing against the foreign car but the perpetuating thoughts that belonged to her sister sounded off in her head though never left her lips as she slid into the clothed seat.

The engine started and the two took off, where Solara didn't know.

**-†-**

The jams that filled the street trying to leave the city were all too familiar to the dreams that haunted her memories. A cigarette rested between Solara's index and middle digit, a steady stream of smoke twisting and twirling up into the air where it would then become as transparent as the air that she breathed. Her hands were shaking as she inhaled the toxic smoke, allowing it to encircle within the curves of her lungs, soaking in the poison.

"Do you have anywhere to go?" the driver asked her.

She exhaled slowly wishing that she didn't have to answer him; it meant that she had to allow the fumes of smoke to leave her picked lips to be able to even reply to him.

"Honestly I don't even know where I am."

A the car was at a standstill, his chiseled angular cheeks that were in the range of her peripherals turned allowing her to see his entirety.

Disbelief hung behind the cloudy color of his eyes and instead of wanting to analyze anymore of him to the point of insanity she turned her head to watch in stoic silence the chaos. A woman with blond hair gripped her infant child, the sex was unknown to Solara as she couldn't see the color of the blanket nor was she able to tell by the clothing the baby was dressed in. A disfigured man whose face was covered in crimson liquid which she was instantly able to configure as blood clung to his lower jaw and dripped from his darkened fingertips. Her screams caused Solara to watch with a dreamy gaze, inspecting it all; weighing out the outcome that this woman would be able to survive the hell that the world had become. Her screams and the babies wails started to attract the decomposing, flesh-eating monsters to stumble towards her direction while others who were feasting upon their recent kill lifted their heads, deciding to leave their kill for something fresher and more desirable.

Solara couldn't stand it all. She couldn't understand what was going on except all the things that were being pictured outside of the car reminded her of old time Hollywood horror movies. Was everything outside actually happening while she was being kept behind barred doors?

She turned to the Drug-dealing hospital staff who was the reason for her escape and hoarsely whispered, "Where are we?"

He immediately responded, "This was Thomasville."

Thomasville. The town that was the center border that intertwined Cairo to Florida.

"I need to stop by my apartment and get some things but the radio has been saying that Atlanta is a safe-haven and that they'll give us sanctuary away from the infected," He continued on but Solara was only able to grasp Atlanta and Safe-haven. Was Ailey there? In Atlanta? Was her father home in Atlanta, was he even alive?

Instinct pushed the horrid thoughts that were being conjured in her mind. Her once shaking hands stopped their off balanced cigarette and she inhaled deeply, drinking up the minty tobacco before tossing the white stick out the window.

"Where's the closest Sports Shop, Dealer?"

"Dealer?" He asked with amusement despite their situation.

Her brow picked up and her azure hues that held no sort of humor glared into his. Instead he shook her head to her and decide to then introduce himself.

"My names Nathanial Richards. Call me Nate, Solara." He chuckles before explaining to her that a few blocks from the apartment building was a mom and pop hunting store that she could check out. He never once asked Solara what had been plaguing his mind for the past 62 days. Why exactly was she in his care; why was she sent to a mental clinic?

There wasn't an exchange of 'Thanks' to 'You're welcomes', instead she gave him a curt nod, her attention to once again at the silence of the wails; the mother on the ground her arms scraping the grass as she plucked them out from their intricate nuzzle deep within the dirt. To no avail, her pleas darkly switched to screams as her skin had lost its elasticity and started to shreds and what was left of her baby were barely the tiny bones before her life too would end.

An infected splashed its hands across the glass that was beside her leaving trails of crimson streaked across once clear and perfection. The peeled rotting flesh showed the now darkening gums of what was once human and the ravishing hunger growls that hissed from non-existent lips caused her to momentarily jump up from her seat.

Nate growled a "shit" and clicked the car into reverse before swerving dangerously into the stopped traffic buildup. Dozens of car horns were blasting into the air, some to their brazen take to driving others to hurry the jam up. Some even opened their doors and took to the tracks of downtown Thomasville, hoping that they could take the train and by any grace of God, surpass this pandemic.

**-†-**

Time wasn't of issue, though her eyes had been trained on the digitalized numbers for the remainder of the drive. She couldn't stand to see the chaos and fear that brought the townspeople to their breaking points. Taking to the account also that another reason she couldn't stand to gaze upon once beautiful and lively people was because of the dead that were rising up quicker than the dead were falling. However, when Nate pulled up to his and his room-mates apartment, he exited the car with ease; the calm rational thoughts that perhaps were running through his mind despite of their situation was quite interesting and if Solara had time to analyze him she'd probably find it remarkable. But that wasn't the case currently. Basic instinct was for her to gather things that she'd need to survive if she would accidentally meet with one of the "Roamers" that walked the streets.

"Nate?"

His body stiffened when she called out his name and he turned his attention to her briefly, curious as to what it was that she needed.

"Be careful."

A cocky smirk formed upon his handsome face and he inclined his head in a slight bow, adding a "Will do my lady," before asking her where she was heading.

With a shrug of complete nonchalance that she was trying to show, despite the growing anxiety of what could be hiding anywhere she stated that she was going to go to the Mom and pop store to see if there was anything that she could probably find until they got to Atlanta. He just nodded and reiterated her words of being careful. Solara nodded whispering as she turned that she would, taking off in the direction that he had pointed to.

With no weapons to disarm the roamers, she just hoped that she'd have enough luck stored that she wouldn't have to be fated to meet one of them until she had something to end their pathetic existences again. Pops of shots echoed in the vicinity and she couldn't tell for sure in what direction its origination was from.

Passing now empty industrial buildings that had belonged to once predominant and necessary businesses that normal humans would go to, Solara heard the guttural growls meeting face to face with a walking corpse. Its arms jutted out trying to reach for her body and Solara held back a gasp, inhaling quickly before wanting to gag at the grotesque smell. As she took a few steps backwards her eyes were looking for any means for a weapon besides her hands and legs. To her left and about 30 meters from where she was at was a blue bag where sticks were ready for her to pluck them, but knowing that if she went towards that specific direction she'd be in the range of more of the roamers she tried to mentally conjure a statistical plan that would be in her favor.

"Don't I wish that I was in a fucking Hollywood movie," She exasperated, annoyance tainting each word that passed through her lips.

The Roamer whose sex she was finally able to realize was a female with long dirty slacks with one flat dress shoe, "her" other foot ripped as the flesh allowed her to see the gritty white color of the bone. The roamer's hair was stringy and matted though it seemed to be falling off in patches with each movement while its arms were barely clothed and what remained were holes and rips.

Solara's feet continued to itch further and further away from her destination and the roamer was starting to snarl and snap its jaws in absolute anticipation. Her back hit the front bumper of a GMC and her eyes widened significantly. It was as though the roamer realized that its opportunity was now and wobbled quickly towards Solara's frame. With its arms opening in what could've been known as a hugging movement Solara kicked out her foot towards the roamers chest, hearing the thud as her sneaker hit the bones that would've protected a human.

"Shit shit shit shit" She murmured underneath her breath as she reclaimed her foot from the stumbling Roamer, giving her ample time to sprint towards the bag where the knitting sticks had protruded from the clothed bag, black yarn intricately wrapped around the needle. Tugging the soft cloth from the blue metal sticks, Solara watched as two other Roamers caught her attention, their ghastly orbs that once held perhaps so much sentiment and joy forever in an abyss due to their unsustainable hunger. Their trained eyes and impeccable hearing glared at her and slowly they gravitated to her.

With fear filling her adrenaline, her fingers started to tremble with each tug of the yarn, desperately trying to remove the tightly knitted stitched from their stick to use as a local weapon.

"They're not alive. They can't feel anymore. You can do this, Sol!" She tried to convince herself, keeping the bottle of emotions from the past, the reasoning's for how she got herself here to begin with under wraps.

The what could've passed for a male but was actually once a female roamer, the one with its bare foot exposed was closer to her person. Her eyes fluttered shut momentarily as she inhaled deeply, removing the thought from her mind of their decomposing stench. She needed to return her mind and body to complete unity not run it based on fear. Her ears picked up on yells and the throaty groans, moans and clicking of teeth meeting together in perfect harmony. When the lids of her eyes, shone the bright light of the day Solara was able to pull the stitches from the needles and hold them comfortably at her side her feet moving in a sweeping motion towards the original roamer that she met when she was going to the store and shoved the tip of the needle up through the nose socket up into the brain stem.

One down, two more to go.

Finding that she was able to make do with what she had as temporary weapons, Solara ended the pathetic existence of the Roamers and treaded carefully towards the mom and pop gun and artillery store, watching as looters and men were breaking the glass and holding people at gunpoint for cash.

Shattered glass filled the store and her feet continued to cause shatters of glass to continually break upon her weight. No one was paying attention to her and from her position whatever hopes she had of finding guns were thrown out the further she walked into the store. The popping sounds of the roamers coming closer to the building brought forth another wave of anxiety through her center. With quick flicks to her left and right she tried to memorize where everything was placed; the chairs being knocked over, how the glass had rippled before shattering and the sounds of cries as people were either cut or infected by the undead. A wooden stairway that to what she would've assumed led to the mom and pop's home, caught her attention and she decided that maybe perhaps there would be unconventional weapons that she'd be able to acquire.

Her heart started pounding in her chest, almost blocking out all the other sounds that were being flown across the walls, waving towards whomever was in the nearest vicinity. Taking a timid step towards the private entrance of someone's home brought a disgusting feeling in her mouth, though she continued meeting an opened door where two bodies bled out on the carpeted floor.

Solara's face contorted into absolute disgust for whomever carried out the deed but sorrow for the victims who were in their early senior years. Their arms were outstretched, though what caught Solara's attention were how their arms were reaching out for something. It was then that she realized that they were reaching out for each other in their last breaths.

"May you rest in peace," she stated with a hushed tone as she invaded their home, her eyes glancing around. Drawers were yanked out, utensils were scattered across the linoleum floor and when she swayed towards the living area something behind the green plastic wrapped sofa made her do a double take.

It was a hilt of a katana as she would later eye. A mighty fine weapon that could be conspicuous yet lethal at the same time. Picking up the katana by its raven sheathed hilt, she carried it in her left hand while leaning her head towards the hallway, listening. No sound emitted from the room which deemed it safe for her quick scavenge and with further inspection she only found another blade, taking it into her custody and making a break towards Nate's house.

Easier said than done, she'd have to admit as she carried the weapons and the needles like a lunatic. Planting her feet, she stuffed the knitting needles into her right front jean pocket and removed the blades from their sheathes and held them out, testing the weight before turning the corner to her drug-dealing slash life-saving ally.

The blue Honda was still parked in the driveway and bags were steadied by the front door.

"For the love of Christ are you kidding me?" she growled shaking her head. Mentally Solara chastised the man. They were in a fucking apocalypse not going on vacation! Essentials only, though it seemed that he either was ignoring the memo or was one of those hording idiots who couldn't bear to live without their precious shit.

Nate's head popped out and he saw her, flashing her a crooked grin until his eyes locked on to the weapons she had comfortably limped in her hands. The cloudy shift returned to his eyes and as his hands gripped the handles of the bags that he'd be taking for their "trip" to Atlanta, he started to shake his head.

By the time he tossed all the worthless bags into the trunk and backseat was when he finally decided to look at her, speaking each word in almost question.

"You couldn't get the guns."

"Place was over-run and this was all I could find." She shrugged, handing one of the blades to him. "Want it?"

With a shake of his head, she returned the blade to her side and entered the car.

"We better go, those things are coming closer and the radios and TV's keep talking about sanctuary in Atlanta for us." He calmly reiterated for what seemed like the umpteenth time.

She'd never know that hell's gates would be calling them in for a trap.

**-†-**

**Authors Note:**Okay so awesome! Chapter 1 here is done and I can finally go to sleep (not being able to because these scenes keep popping into my head forbidding me to not scribble something down). So leave me a review on whatcha think? What could be improved and what did you guys think of this weekend's episode! I freaked out and wanted to shoot bullets into my TV all due to Carl. Let me know!


	3. Mad World

Author Name: Bloodrope Twitter: Bloodrope

6

Website & Tumblr: .

**Title: ****INFxCTED**

**Author: ****Bloodrope**

**Rating: ****T**

**Fandom: ****The Walking Dead**

**Disclaimers****: I own a bunch of USB keys that are dedicated to the series and junk like that but I don't own the series nor do I work with AMC or on the set…But we all wish right? I know I do. **

**Chapter 2:**

Solara's body trembled during the darkened hours. It was much too dangerous to have the lights of the car showing the way despite other vehicles that had taken up the road, had been doing so. Nate had been fidgeting for the past 30 minutes, his fingers tapping loudly against the faded and weathered steering wheel. Fumes were all that were left in the Gas tank, and from the sign about 4 hours ago before the duo decided to stop with the mob of cars; they were about 400 miles away from the Capitol.

With her head leaning uncomfortably on the inner frame of the old Honda, the crown of her head kissing the inner glass at a 90 degree angle, she inhaled deeply, the lids of her eyes shut for the time being. Solara was entertaining a small battle in the darkened crevices of her mind on whether or not indulging herself in former memories, instead of keeping them stowed away. Just for the time being; to allow for her to have a moment of peace, to allow a smile to form against the pale contours of her delicate yet feminine lips. Faltering, she decided to pick a memory that wouldn't be detrimental to her psychological state of mind and that could be dealt with at a later time if the need occurred.

_Solara was tucked in her Little Mermaid sheets when she heard the barely audible creak of the bedroom door open. Her dream of winning the lottery of chocolate where everything was molten and bursting up into the air ready for the urge to slurp the oozy goodness ended just as she was about to take a chocolate raspberry into her mouth. _

_She didn't know what was wrong when she lifted her head from the warmth, pushing back the colors of Ariel and flounder off from her tiny body. Her sister, who shared the same bed together, huffed in her sleep, still dead to the world. Despite their young and naïve age, Solara felt like the older sibling despite being the last to pop out from the womb. _

_Taking a look to their closed white door, Solara furrowed her brows not understanding. A quick glance back towards her sleeping sister gave her the push she wanted to investigate. If there was something interesting to find, she'd be able to throw it into her sister's face and for once be first in something. That feeling alone made her almost giddy to the point where mewled sounds would start croaking in her throat from ample excitement. _

_Like the movies, she held her hands almost like a rabbit and walked on the tips of her toes, desperately trying to not make a sound. The carpeted flooring masked any sound that would've perhaps echoed throughout the room and when she stood not but a few mere inches from the door that would lead her to an adventure, her heart continued to beat quickly in her chest. A shaky hand gripped the cold steel in her hand, silently opening the bedroom door. Not once did she breathe in fear of alerting anyone. _

_The clock that would've told her just what time it was had been overshadowed and Solara didn't know if it was still time for her to be asleep or if it was that time where her father would always awake before the sun came up to greet and officially awake the world. The click of the door shutting close caused her overly adrenaline body to jump. Her fingers were shaking and her body felt jittery but there was no explanation._

_Her bare feet gripped the cold wood like a vice with each step that she took, her small nubbed fingertips, grazing across the marooned walls. The air condition turned on with a soft hum and a guff of air from the vents on the floor caused her to start hopping over them. She wanted to laugh, daring herself to walk across the vents directly. Her mind had been elsewhere but through the memory, she could picture a shadowy figure from the corner of her left eye. _

"_Solara Rayne, what are you doing out of bed?" His voice lightly drawled though simultaneously demanding an answer. _

_Her body had frozen with her foot hovering above the vent. She had been caught red-handed, her hand stuck full on in the cookie jar, and she didn't know what to do. Her eyes were stricken with fear for punishment but it never came. Her father's boisterous laughter caused her to relax for her to see that he was shaking his head. _

_What she found odd though at the time was that he wasn't dressed in a business suit that their mother had always said was what their father clothed himself in. Leaves and trees of different shades of green and browns as well as some light reds and yellows were printed across his pants where large black boots were laced over his ankles. _

"_I heard a creak," she mumbled not meeting his direct gaze despite knowing that she wasn't in trouble. _

"_Lara honey, you aren't in trouble," he firstly reminded her before taking large powerful strides towards her. _

_Recently, Solara hadn't been getting a lot of sleep due to little noises awakening her, the sound of a tree's branch tapping the window across the hall to Duke, the families Doberman Pinscher, moving around in their room. Little things also like Ailey talking in her sleep about Barbie's that supposedly she didn't like anymore to telling Santa that she had really truly been a good girl this year. _

_Wide oceanic blues stared hopefully at her father until she saw the grin across his face to which she mimicked. It was then that she pulled back her foot placing it back onto the cold wood._

"_Where are you going Daddy? You look funny."_

_Her father feigned being offended before running his large hands through his golden locks. _

"_If I do say, Solara, I do _not _look funny"_

_Giggling and feeling daring she poked her father shaking her head. _

"_Do so."_

_Their banter on her father's attire carried on for a while before he cleared his throat and relayed to her that he was going to go hunting._

_She never heard of hunting before and was curious. _

"_What are you going to hunt?" she asked innocently not knowing that he was going to be hunting down perhaps Bambi and his crew. _

"_Birds," he stated after a while. Later Solara would know that he was debating on whether or not taking his little girl with him; if now was the right time._

_Intrigued she asked if she could come with an overly hopeful smile that her father couldn't have refused. He nodded telling her to put on long pants and long sleeves. _

_Excited she nodded before taking off down the hall, forgetting about the door that had opened which caused her to awaken. As she grew closer to her shared room, she carefully opened the door. There was no Duke anymore and while it at times would cause her to frown not to see his brown eyes look up at her questionably before realizing she wasn't doing anything remotely interesting for his attention, she walked with a bounce to her steps to the closet. _

_Their mother had their closet organized by Season and then sub-categorized by Skirts, pants, dresses and shirts. She pulled from the plastic hanger a pair of purple pants and a long sleeved blue shirt not knowing that the two didn't match and stripped from her pajama set. _

_When she was dressed she waved to her sleeping sister and ran down the hallway and hopped down the stairs towards the spacious kitchen. Her father who was drinking a cup of coffee and watching a rerun of the Brady-bunch didn't comment on his daughters rather bold choice in clothing, rather nodding and asking her what she'd like to have for breakfast._

_-_†_-_

_The view from her father's shoulders was vast and ultimately viewable. Never had Solara seen so many shades of Green in the wonderful state of Georgia. Her hands rested on the top of her father's head while she held a pack across her back, which kept bumping her spine with every step. _

_Usually she had a short attention when it came to not knowing where she was going but this time though; she seemed content to spend the time with her father who she never had time to spend with. She knew that Ailey would be jealous when she told her. Consecutive snaps of branches and leaves fluttering quickly through the air brought her attention down to her father who she could see had stopped walking. _

"_Are we there yet, Daddy?" her soft voice echoed towards Mother Nature._

_Her father never answered though instead grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her off his shoulders onto the ground. Finally having something underneath her feet felt funny and she wobbled while the feeling returned to her feet. _

"_D-"_

"_Hush Solara," he interrupted her with such infliction that she bowed her head downward. _

"_Sorry," she whispered apparently apologetic. _

_Her father held out his hand to her and pointed at a specific spot in a tree where birds were watching them intently. Their beautiful calls to one another died when their territory had been invaded by humans._

_Her eyes enlarged into round saucers. She didn't know if these birds that were in the trees were pheasants but she didn't care. Her attention had been captivated by something that she had never been able to see before. _

_Weight left her shoulders when a rustling and shuffling in her bag was released. It seemed that they were taking a break before the sun's ruthless rays attacked them in a dangerous and poisonous war. _

"_Hey! Those are my juice boxes!" She yelled reaching over to take _her _juices away from him. _

_His laughter stopped her then and the two took a small break. Her father reminded her to put on her hat and inquired if she wanted to walk the rest of the way or wanted him to carry her. Puffing out her chest, she declared that she would walk the rest of the way without complaining. _

"Solara"

Solara couldn't tell where the sound was coming from because of her dream but knew that it wasn't her father's voice. It sounded younger more strained and not carefree like his. Her vision started to shift as though she was being nudged. Her eyes went to her father who exhaled before mouthing something to her to which she didn't catch and she opened her eyes.

"Solara" he repeated again with more agitation.

"W-what?" she asked groggily wiping the crusts of sleep from her eyes, sitting up and groaning mutely as her neck popped trying to realign itself to its natural position. Her dainty fingers started to rub the flesh in circles with pressure, her azure orbs trying to make out where Nate was in the darkness.

"What?" she demanded once more when the silence was starting to constrict her; she wanted to end the silence but couldn't due to a lapse of thought.

"Are you awake?"

"Oh for the love of Candy land, I'm not breakable so you don't have to be so damn cautious around me you know. Spit out what you want Nate."

Like her father did in her dream or memory, at the point she couldn't really spend the extra thought on deciphering which was true and which was just a figment of her overly imaginative mind, he inhaled. What was it that he wanted to say but couldn't find the words to?

Hell if he was going to chew her out now for not finding them any ammunition or guns that he wanted cause she thought that part of their "compromise" was ended.

"You were in an Asylum so forgive me for being cautious but you want blunt yes?"

She nodded waiting for him to continue, forcefully ignoring the fact he just insulted her.

"We're out of gas and if we're going to caravan with these people to Atlanta we need to find some. Ask even but one way or another we're going to have to get it if we're going to move from this spot."

Ultimately she agreed with him. It was the story of her life. Fuck being the submissive girl who had to follow the rules to get somewhere.

It wasn't like she didn't like people, golly she craved human interaction like the stupid plague since her time in Loonyville but her gut didn't really like the people that the two of them so conveniently "found" on the highway.

"You sure that they're going to Atlanta?" she cautioned out her words and accentuated them.

With a brisk "yes" she frowned. She couldn't go out on her own. Hell she didn't know if she'd be able to live out here in this world especially if she didn't know what the bloody hell was happening. All that she knew was that people were starting to look like Zombies and were feeding on living people.

Why, how, when it happened she didn't know because she was severely "protected" by staff at Sunnyvale.

"Fine, we go now."

The driver side door opened and Solara face palmed her forehead wondering why she was agreeing to something that within her reminding that it was going to happen again.

"Fuck my life twice over with the devils pike."

**Author's Note:** Yes lovely readers I am alive, I am writing but I've got no excuses. So I've been getting literally loads of inspiration from the "powers that be" as I like to call them so I've been uh…. Typing that up and waiting to see what comes. I have to say that I hate this chapter and I rewrote it now 6 times and so I'm just going to post this.

To the readers who have favorite this, if I could kiss you I would right now.

To the reviewers, God I love you all. You have made my days so happy and I want to give you cookies to eat.

I wanted to also let everyone know that I'll be posting my Fics on Tumblr for the reason that I will be posting lemons and graphic content that isn't technically under the Rated **M** stature. Link on my profile.

Now! If you guys haven't heard of the story "**Blame it on Bad Luck" or "Landing Feet First" by ErisandDysonomia **go and read it. Tell her that I, Bloodrope sent you and hopefully that can make you just as happy as it does me.


	4. Deadlihood

**Title: ****INFxCTED**

**Author: ****Bloodrope**

**Rating: ****M**

**Fandom: ****The Walking Dead**

**Disclaimers****: I own custom earrings of Walkers(Zombies) from an amazing friend but I don't own the amazing series that was concocted by Robert Kirkman and Co. don't sue; I'm broke, I can't afford to pay you anything unless you accept frozen yogurt.**

**Chapter 3:**

_All the pick of his troops shall fall by the sword, and the survivors shall be scattered to every wind._

_Ezekiel 17:21_

Nights such as tonight where the moon's glow was shadowed by copious fluffed gray spatters usually had no effect to the young woman, though at the exact same time, there weren't walking dead chasing people from their homes out into the open where they could gather around. The mentality, if they actually had one, was predatory; its desire to sedate the ever-present hunger never relinquishing its hold on the cannibals. It wasn't just their homes from what Solara had seen when they rushed out from the horrid establishment that had been loosely called her home for 90 days. Thinking back on it now, time seemed to quickly pass. It must've been due to the adrenaline that coursed wildly through her veins at the gruesome sight, but it reminded her of the reason she was placed in Sunnydale to begin with.

_Enough with it, Solara. Buck up and do your fucking share before the nice man, the one who had been providing you with illegal source of contraband not even 48 hours ago, would leave you for dead for being worthless. _

Solara huffed at her mental chastise. She needed to focus her bearings on not only getting used to the world she was quite literally dragged from and do her fair share of what was expected of her. Hell even if that bar was set below a normal quite sane person, Solara would throw herself up to the task. Hell if she'd die in this fucked up science-fiction of a world. Her father would be more than disappointed that his little girl was one of the first to get blown to pieces… Though technically no one was setting off explosives but hopefully the analogy works enough to describe. God knows that her father would be kicking up a sandstorm and shooting until his last breath, protecting not only his family which consisted of Solara and Ailey, but those that he cared for. Those in the community, especially the woman Solara knew her father started to grow affectionate. At the time she wished her father the best, he deserved to be happy after their tragic but not inevitable loss of their mother.

As her head angled out from the metal protection, Solara wondered how everything was going, how her friends, her family, co-workers and all those that she had grown relationships towards were handling this. Were they opening their homes to these refugees and caring for the children, trying to give them a routine that didn't much differentiate from their own before this apocalypse started or was everything burning.

Solara wanted to desperately know if Atlanta was really the safe haven that the radio cajoled its listeners into believing. Was this trip really worth not only gasoline but their lives? Perhaps this was just the young woman being paranoid. She was in a mental institution so perhaps her short visit there was starting to make the woman more unstable than when she was forced into that prison.

Leaving her seat, she turned her gaze to the miles of cars that were rammed against others, some interestingly curved while others remained in their strict lane. She listened to the attempt of quite whispers that filled the entire roadway, the blocked jammed roadway that didn't do well for the young woman. Inhaling deeply, absorbing the oxygen as though it was a soothing agent, she pushed away the fear that would be interacting towards others. Solara didn't know these strangers, hell, for all she knew the first person that she talked to found her attractive and wanted to hit on her or worse, use her as bait.

_Well that would be fun to experience. Note to self, find a notebook or some piece of paper and start your go'damn bucket list. Add to that list find a serial killer and survive… And don't forget to add exclamation points to the latter! _

There would be no weapon accompanying Solara as she made her journey through the labyrinth of cars. It scared her that despite the hell that the world suddenly became that she couldn't use her second amendment right to bear arms without probably offending these lots of people. From her peripheral, she watched Nate who was still in his Hospital scrubs, if you wanted to call it even that, making his way towards a large SUV whose color she couldn't make out. What she could see though were 4 men of ranging ages of perhaps early 50's to early 20's and a thin woman who had silky hair. Even in the dark, where light was opaque she could still make out the shine and the contrast that it made against the night's sky. She shouldn't have been staring at the woman, whose features she couldn't honestly make out but the color during the night had entranced her… For a moment she stared at how pale the color was, how compared to perhaps its counterpart that was the day, that what appeared to be divine silk made from the heavens was honestly perhaps a pale blonde, bleached or naturally fair. She wouldn't know but the internal bickering formed in her gut reminding her that she had to find some fuel.

_Hurray. First day out you nincompoop and you're starting to panic over being with people. You really are an idiot. _

The figure in her mind whose frame was covered in an arrangement of tattoos that started to fade as she gazed upon Solara's inner self's neck also had bold colored rings tinkering across the dainty fingers. The woman screamed of confidence and of potential danger that lingered underneath the surface of Solara's current being.

_Buck up ya' stronghold. This ain't the time to be dreamin' of faeries and unicorns._

"If only such things existed," she muttered softly catching the attention of one of the caravan group a few cars down. This man had a beer belly, a dirty wife beater that seemed to be accentuating his massive gut and from what the young woman could attest to, his fingers were a tad bit darker than the flesh.

"Watcha' say?" his southern drawl cooed.

Solara froze in her place, her hands that were fidgeting with her top stopped mid-pull of the fabric.

Stuttering to try and not sound like a complete mental patient, she sighed deciding to explain.

"Well call me crazy or wha'not but there's Zombie's takin' over so I thought if there could be Zombies there could be Faeries and Unicorns and maybe Voldemort and his group." She mimicked, her tone laced in sarcasm but the serious glare that reflected from her eyes made the man pull his head back as though he was to laugh but when seeing the grim expression he didn't know how to take her response. Chancing at the gamble he chuckled running his large palm through his thinning hair. It seemed that he found Solara to be entertaining if not charming. With the world how it suddenly flipped, shaking the underworld onto the plain of the living having the sense of humor was a rare commodity. At least that's from what he'd seen. Despite it all, the way that Solara carried herself he found her odd; not able to figure out exactly who she was, what she did or whether or not that she was a danger.

"Dunna' know who da' 'ell that is pretty lady. I kna' wha' I want tha'. Come 'ere"

Nostrils flared and she felt the disgust rolling off in waves from her body. She had been locked up in solitary confinement for months with no contact with the opposite sex and while she could've been flattered she was absolutely disgusted. The switch between emotions however shifted towards anger. How dare this chauvinistic sexist pig that smelt of rotten garbage spoiled with menthol and the putrid stench of stale beer, think that his "charming" attitude towards her would be something she found attractive.

While yes, she was voided of contact with sane human beings, that didn't mean that she was desperate for anything that was sporting a dick between their legs. Hell, she had standards and from the mental list that she had from when she was a child he didn't meet any of the specific standards that she was looking for in a man.

Solara took a step back from the man; she found his presence around her very disturbing and wrong. There had to be something wrong with this man. This was a fucking apocalypse from what she's witnessed with her own orbitals, not a porno movie where a pretty girl falls for some Southern charm… which in turned caused the woman to laugh. _Southern Charm. Hell charm would be me some George Clooney not a hobo justice league wannabe. _

Taking the opportunity of mentally insulting the man who stood staring with fury behind his darkened glare she waved and continued weaving her way through the rows of vehicles. Eyes followed her more of curiousity than of a threat. Her slim body and her clothes that were a bit big on her could perhaps put of some looks but she knew that once she opened her mouth that maybe, perhaps any hope that she could try and interact with these strangers, would be thrown out the window. Solara didn't have a mental to mouth brain filter and when she thought something she naturally spoke it.

Clinks and footsteps had the woman on alert though. She didn't smell death near her but that didn't mean that his presence wasn't near, beckoning her string of life before allowing the angel of death to sever the line of life. She was scared, paranoid even with what she'd seen and with the memories. None of it made sense to her. Then nor now and yet she had to accept that this was the world that she was in. But why?

Why couldn't she just be home listening to her father go on about the security of our Nation and how it was Solara's turn to move the piece on the board. Her father… _Daddy._

A hand brushed her shoulders and she sucked in a breath to let out a shriek of surprise as well as fear but it halted in her throat. The familiar smell of axe body spray and cigarettes brushed her senses. While turning her head she spotted the familiar cold, cloudy orbs that seemed to entrance her, despite it being night and the Cheshire grin that graced his strong features.

"Jesus Christ of Ladder Day Saints! You scared the shit outta' me, Nate!"

His grin it seemed appeared to stretch further than humanly possible, the canines of his ivory whites intimidating her. His hand that had brushed her shoulders came to lightly grip the muscle and his fingertips alleviated some tension which had started to knot.

"Easy there Casanova. You could be struck down by God for messing with the Mormon Church you know." His tenor chuckle had the woman raising a brow. She didn't understand what he was talking about, religion wasn't something she cared to get into first in the middle of the night when not only was it creepy as hell but hid the monsters that belonged under a mythical bed.

"Like God would have anything to do with Sainthood," She muttered, eyebrows furrowing.

"Did you find some gas?" she asked hesitantly. Solara felt guilty; she had a duty to the man that saved her life and while he asked her to do something as simple as ask a complete stranger who could ultimately be some Jason in disguise tempting her towards the forest brush only to machete her to death, yeah that would make any girl weary of people, men in particular.

"And that my destructo-doll would be a negative."

"What….Wait what the hell is a destructo-doll?"

"It's something that I made up that seems to relate to your pale feminine features but your eyes, well they hold something far darker than I can imagine." Nate rushed out in a breath before gripping her elbow and trotting her towards a group of elderly men and in accompany with them their women.

**Author's Note:** Well if you follow me on Tumblr you have probably seen me spamming the living crap each day of Solara and Daryl or Solara and (Insert The Walking Dead Character here's name.)I've Got, Daryl, Rick, Merle, and… The GOVERNOR! but that's it right now.

I've been trying to write down how I see this story (Which is being played in my head) to be typed the way that I want for seriously MONTHS. Face desks

Follow me on Tumblr: ** .com**. Ask me questions, rant on how you want me to hurry my but up with updates anything. Oh and check out my Playlist~


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